


Coffee Break (Hotch/Reader one-shots)

by Amethyst_owl



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2434889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyst_owl/pseuds/Amethyst_owl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Hotch/Reader one-shots.<br/>1. Coffee Break<br/>2. C'est La Mort<br/>3. Hands Are Clever<br/>4. Thin Ice<br/>5. High Flyer<br/>6. Tangled Up<br/>7. Interrogation</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee Break

It's been a long day, and your arms are full of case files. You need a cup of tea, and decide to flick through the files in the break room. After a near-death experience last week, you feel you deserve it.

When you reach the break room, Hotch is already there, leaning against the countertop with a mug of coffee and a half-smile that makes your heart miss a beat.

"Aaron. Hi." You say, putting your stack of files down on the countertop and almost dropping your mug as you fumble to remove it from the cupboard. You barely flinch at the thought of murder, but right now your heart is hammering against your ribs, and you're almost certain he can tell.

"Listen, Y/N," he says "About the other day...There was something I wanted to say. In case it happens again, and we don't get out alive."

"What is it?" you say softly. In reply, he sets down his mug and crosses to where you are. He takes the mug from your hands and pushes it to the other side of the countertop, his fingers brushing against yours. You look at the cup, then back to him, slightly confused.

"This." he replies, pressing his lips to yours. His fingers tangle in your hair, and you find yourself pinned against the countertop. Your lips part, and suddenly you can taste the coffee on his tongue. You moan quietly as his hands slide down the curves of your body. He pulls away slowly, savouring the moment, and your eyes meet his.

"Y/N, I--"

"Shhhh" you smile, kissing him again.

"I need you." he whispers against your lips, his voice practically dripping with desire "Now." You run your fingers down the soft material of his shirt, hooking them into his belt and pulling him even closer. He kisses your neck, and a shudder runs through you. He smirks, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your collarbone.

"I know, Hotch." You reply "I know."


	2. C'est La Mort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW - Character death

Debris rains down around you, and it is as if everything is in slow motion. Your ears ring, and your vision is blurred. Pain fills your chest and stomach, and you can feel the warmth of blood spreading across your shirt. No sound escapes your mouth when you try to call for help, and you sob silently, every shaking breath like a dagger. A car door slams in the distance.

"Y/N?!" A shout comes from somewhere nearby "Y/N, where are you?!".

Hotch.

You try to call out, wave - anything you can do to get his attention. Desperately, you reach for your gun and fire a shot into the air, your hand trembling with the effort. The gun clatters to the ground, and you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Hotch?" You croak, wincing at the pain. He appears suddenly, dropping to his knees beside you.

"What happened?" he asks, taking in the extent of your injuries.

"The building...it exploded..." You manage to say "I couldn't get there in time...I'm sorry, Hotch."

"Don't be. You did all you could." he replies "We caught him, Y/N. We did it."

"Thank god." You gasp, sheer agony knocking the air from your lungs. You look up at Hotch, and the look in his eyes tells you that he's seen this before. He looks desperate - something you have never seen before.

"I'm not gonna make it, am I?" You say "I can see it in your eyes. There's not enough time to get to a hospital, and even then they couldn't do anything. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure this is fatal."

"I'm not going to lose you as well, Y/N" he replies bitterly "I've seen too many good people die. People I don't know, people sacrificing themselves for our sake - and people I _love_. People have died because I haven't kept them safe. Because I'm not good enough, or fast enough, or strong enough to save them."

"That's not true, Aaron.You've saved your team from all sorts of situations, and you've saved me more times than I can count."

"But it's not enough, is it?!" tears slip down his cheeks "I still couldn't get to you in time."

"You're here now, and that's enough for me." You smile weakly, reaching up to wipe the tears from his cheek. His fingers entwine with yours, holding your hand to his face.

"This wasn't how it was supposed to work." He whispers "I was going to take you out for dinner tonight. Everything was going to be perfect - I was going to give you this..." He reaches into his pocket, and takes out a velvet-covered box.

"Oh Aaron..." you stroke his cheek with your thumb as he fumbles to open the box one-handed.

The ring is beautiful, a platinum band set with diamond and amethyst.

"Not that it matters much anymore," He says, taking a deep breath "but, Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" You smile again "Yes!"

His hands are shaking as he slides the ring onto your finger, crying softly.

"I'm sorry." You choke "Sorry it has to end like this. I love you more than you could ever know, Aaron Hotchner."

Wordlessly, his lips touch yours, and your final thoughts are of happier times, your final breath a whisper against his lips.


	3. Hands Are Clever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a fic request from the imaginingcriminalminds tumblr. My first smut fic.

“So, uh, how was your day, Y/N?” Hotch calls from the kitchenette, opening a bottle of red wine and pouring out two small glasses. The hotel is inexpensive but well-furnished, and even Hotch’s single bedroom is spacious and pleasantly decorated. You shrug and kick off your heels, perching on the end of the bed and resting your hands in your lap.

“Alright, I guess. Reid and I made some progress today. We’ve found another possible suspect.” You undo your braid and gently shake out your hair “And this one has motive too - we sent his info over to Garcia.”

“Great work.” Hotch replies with a smile, sitting down next to you and trying his hardest not to spill the wine.

“Oh, I think you’ll find Reid did most of the smart stuff…” You laugh softly, taking your glass out of his hand and coyly taking a sip “I just stood behind him and tried to look a bit threatening.”

“Though I don’t doubt Spencer’s knowledge - _god knows he has enough for the whole team -_ I really don’t think you’re giving yourself nearly enough credit.”

“I’m really not--“

“You’re a clever woman, Y/N” he says, turning to face you “And a pretty one at that.”

You blush, taking another sip of wine and trying your best not to make a fool of yourself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been either of those things, Aaron.” You sigh “Ever.”

“I chose you especially to be part of this team - you’re a great agent, and you fit in perfectly.” He places a comforting hand on your knee, and the blush creeping up your cheeks intensifies.

“And besides,” he continues, draining the rest of his glass and setting it down on the floor “I…I think I might be falling for you, Y/N. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for dinner sometime, when we’re done here.”

“That sounds perfect.” You say, your eyes meeting. He laughs nervously, and you slide your hand into his. You’ve never seem him like this before.

“It really does, Aaron. Don’t look so nervous.”

“It’s just…I’ve been feeling like this for a while now. I’m not used to it - I feel like such an idiot...”

“Shhhhhh” You lift a finger to his lips, and finish your own glass of wine. Smiling, you allow your finger to trail down his neck, hooking it into his tie and pulling him towards you. Your lips collide, and you move to straddle him. His breath catches in his throat, and his mouth opens in surprise. His lips are softer than they look, and you gently bite down on his lower lip, a shiver running down your spine.

He pulls away to catch his breath, dazed.

“Not going to lie to you,” You say, resting your forehead against his “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Oh, really?” He smirks, pulling you further onto his lap. His lips graze your neck, and your back arches, pressing your body to his.

“Really.” You reply, grasping the lapels of his jacket and slipping the jacket off of his shoulders. He lets go of you for a second, allowing the jacket to slide from his arms. You loosen his tie and throw it aside as his arms wrap around your waist.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says, his breath tickling your neck.

“I have been told, yes.” You reply, turning your head slightly to kiss him again “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

He lifts his face and stares at you. His gaze is intense, and a slight smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Slowly, your fingertips trail down the soft material of his shirt, and you undo his belt and trousers with deft fingers. Your hand moves lower, closing around his hardening length.

He gasps.

You begin to slide your palm up and down, slowly at first. He inhales sharply, and his jaw tightens. You smile, sliding off of his lap and kneeling down in front of him. The cut of your carefully-selected blouse reveals just enough of your cleavage as you lean forwards to plant a soft kiss against his tip, stroking him with slow, measured movements.

“Jesus, Y/N--” he moans quietly, his hips moving against your hands. His own fingers are digging into the sheets, bunching up the crisp white material under his palms. Your hands move faster, caressing him – controlling him. His brow furrows, and you stop suddenly, standing up. He opens his mouth to protest, dazed, until he registers the movement of your fingers against the buttons that fasten your shirt. The silk-smooth material drops to the floor, and the rest of your clothes follow, with his soon after. He stands, reaching forward to grasp your waist and pull you close.

Your body presses against his, skin to skin. You move forwards, pushing him down and pinning him against the mattress. He moans as you sink down on top of him, filling yourself with his length.

 ~~~~~~

“Morning.” Hotch mumbles, accepting a cup of coffee from Reid and sitting down beside you. He adjusts his tie a little and picks up a croissant. The group sits in silence for a while, and there is no sound but the soft click of cutlery on plates.

Every muscle in your body aches, but you don’t care.

“Good night’s sleep?” JJ asks brightly, nudging you. You nod, but something about the way she looks at you seems odd. You notice Morgan’s gaze is also directed at you, and even Reid glances up from time to time. Rossi casually sips his coffee, his face almost unreadable.

“What?” You say, defensive “Why are you all looking at me?”

“We heard everything.” She whispers, raising her eyebrows “The walls aren’t particularly thick in this hotel. That and the fact I saw you going into Hotch's room.”

 You choke on your tea, barely managing to swallow it. Jareau giggles, and Hotch glances over at the pair of you, making her laugh even harder.

He smiles.


	4. Thin Ice

“Are you sure about this?” Hotch says, standing unsteadily on his beaten-up rental skates – he looks as if he’s going to fall over, and you haven’t even got on the ice yet. The city lights twinkle around you, and the Christmas tree that takes up the centre of the rink is breathtaking. Jack’s eyes are wide with excitement as you finish lacing up his skates.

“I’ll hold you up – it’ll be fun!” You grab his hand and drag him to the edge of the rink. Jack follows eagerly, tottering across the rubber matting and jumping on to the ice. He falls against the barrier as his feet slip out from underneath him, laughing as he slides down to land on his butt. Hotch smiles.

“Look,” You continue, stepping onto the ice “You can hold my hand, and you can hold the barrier if you’re _really_ bad.”

You have been a skater since you can remember, and your movements are graceful and fluid.

Hotch – not so much.

Tentatively, he places one foot on the ice and tries to gain his balance before moving the other. He grips your hand tightly and stumbles forward a little.

“I can’t do this!” He says, letting go of your hand and clinging to the barrier. You have never seen him so terrified of something so ridiculous.

“You can!” You giggle “You catch serial killers for a living, Aaron - you can’t let a little bit of frozen water beat you.”

“C’mon Daddy!” Jack beams, wobbling back towards you and grabbing Hotch’s leg. He looks down at his son, then back at you.

“Alright, alright!” Hotch says, grasping your outstretched hand and shuffling towards you.

You make it about halfway around the rink before Hotch falls over. He lands flat on his back, somehow remaining unhurt, and Jack practically squeals with laughter. You roll your eyes, reaching down to help him to his feet.

He smirks mischievously as he takes your hand – instead of getting to his feet he yanks you towards him. You shriek, landing on top of him. Your faces are practically touching, and you plant a firm kiss on his lips.

“Ewwww!” Jack groans. You smile, and soon all three of you are laughing.

~~~~~~

Hotch decides soon after that ice skating isn’t for him, leaving you and Jack on the ice.

“Wanna go fast?” You say, grabbing his hands. He nods enthusiastically, and you begin to gather speed. Jack cheers as you weave through the other skaters, feeling the wind against your faces. You lift him onto your hip and spin him round, and he grins.

When the session finally ends your curls are all over the place, and your cheeks are pink. Hotch brushes a loose tendril of hair from your face, cupping your cheek and kissing you again.

“Its nights like these that remind me why I love you so much, Y/N.” He whispers, slipping his other hand round your waist.


	5. High Flyer

Hotch glances up from the case file, his tired eyes meeting yours. He closes it and sets it down on the table, rubbing his eyes and turning to look out of the tiny plane window beside him. The other members of the team are asleep, but you and Hotch have reading up on the case.

“Rough night?” You say quietly, moving from your seat to the empty one next to him. You smooth out your skirt and place your case file neatly on top of his.

“No more than usual.” He says.

“You know, the only thing that keeps me coming back to this job is the thought that we’re making the world a little safer, one Unsub at a time.” You reply “It’s a hard job, but someone’s got to do it.”

He smiles wistfully.

“Of course, that’s not the only reason…” You smile mischievously, your hand coming to rest on his knee. He looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“Y/N, I’m a profiler – you think I haven’t noticed?”

“I _know_ you have.” You reply, your fingers tracing spirals on the soft material of his trousers “You’re always so tense. More than usual.”

“Y/N,” Hotch glances over at the rest of the team “Now’s not a great time to discuss this. Not here.”

“They’re all asleep. We’re fine.”

“Y/N --“

“Loosen up a little!” You reply, your fingers moving further up his leg.

“Not now.” He says, his voice almost a growl. His stare is intense, and he grasps your wrist. Your gaze flickers momentarily to your wrist, then back to his face. His expression is almost unreadable, even for an experienced profiler like you, but something stands out in the way he looks at you.

Desire.

~~~~~~

The rest of the team come to their senses just in time for the landing, and they move slowly about the cabin, retrieving bags and belongings from the storage compartments.

“You guys go on without me” Hotch says “I’ll meet you in the lounge in a bit - I have some business to take care of. Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, sir.” You say, more than a hint of sarcasm in your voice. He glares.

“Why do I get the feeling that talking isn’t what you had in mind?” You say, once the others have left. The door is closed, and all the shutters are down. You drop your bag on a chair.

“Because it isn’t.” he answers, grabbing your wrists and pushing you up against the wall, your lips colliding. His hands find your waist, and his lips move to your neck, trailing across your collarbone. You inhale sharply as his hand disappears into the waistband of your skirt, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“Jesus, Aaron.” You whisper, grabbing his tie and kissing him again. He swipes the case files aside and lifts you onto the edge of the table, his fingers running up your toned thighs and hooking into the elastic of your underwear. He tugs at the black lace, sliding them down your legs and throwing them aside. He steps between your legs, forcing them a little further apart, and allows his lips to touch yours again. He quickly undoes his belt and trousers, his kiss desperate and wanting, and pulls you towards him. You cry out in pleasure as he enters you, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Shhhh” He whispers against your lips, holding you against his chest. You grasp the lapels of his jacket as his hips move slowly against yours, crushing the expensive material in your balled fists.

“We should get back soon…” You say breathlessly, pulling away “They’ll notice.”

“You didn’t seem concerned earlier.” He replies, his breathing heavy “And besides, I’m not done with you. Not yet.” The edge of the table digs into the back of your legs as he thrusts into you again, his palms slamming down on the tabletop either side of you. A shiver runs down your spine, and you feel the burning in your core begin to intensify – the feeling is so strong it is almost painful. You can tell that Hotch is not far from release either – his jaw is clenched, and his brow furrowed.

“Fuck.” You moan, wrapping your arms round his neck “We need to talk more often.”

You grasp him tighter as you hit your release, and you feel him climax inside you. His head falls against your shoulder, and he sighs deeply, his energy spent.

“We do.” He says.

~~~~~~

“Good job, team.” Rossi smiles, stuffing his bag into the overhead compartment and collapsing onto the sofa “We caught another one.”

You take a seat by the window, across from the table.

“I don’t know about you, Rossi,” Morgan smirks “But I’m exhausted.”

He sprawls dramatically across the polished surface, and out of the corner of your eye you notice Hotch glance in your direction. You stifle a smile, and he winks at you.

Your phone goes off in your pocket.

_We’ll talk again when we land. AH_

You unlock it to type your reply.

_Yes, sir._


	6. Tangled Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW - sort of BDSM theme

He’s been stealing glances at you all day. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and attempt to refocus your attention on the case file before you, but your gaze flicks upwards again.

Hotch is watching you over the top of his own case file, one eyebrow raised. A blush creeps across your cheeks, and you shut the case file. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

_Your place. 10pm. AH_

You bite your lip, and open up your messages to reply.

_Yes, sir._

You slide the phone back into your pocket, but it buzzes again.

_I do love it when you call me sir. AH_

Supressing a giggle, you type your reply. You look up, and Hotch meets your gaze, his stare intense. His phone buzzes.

_You’re welcome, sir. ;)_

He smirks.

~~~~~~

Everything is tidy and clean, and you smooth out your skirt as the doorbell rings. Your hair falls in loose curls down your back, and your shoulders are left bare by your dress. You open the door, and Hotch stands before you.

“Wine?” you ask, stepping back and ushering him in.

“Red, please.” He replies, carefully draping his jacket over the bannister.

 “Make yourself at home.” You smile, gesturing to the living room.

Your hands are shaking slightly as you pour out two glasses – one red, one rosé - and bring them into the living room. Hotch has made himself comfortable on the sofa, and he gratefully accepts the glass from you. Candles burn on the mantelpiece and a fire is burning in the fireplace. The light is soft and atmospheric.

“How was your day?” You say, sitting next to him and folding your legs up underneath you.

“Slightly more interesting than usual…” He says pointedly, looking across at you “But just an average day – another Unsub caught, another case closed. More reports to file on Monday.”

“How’s Jack?”

“Good. He’s staying at a friend’s house for the weekend. Anyway – how was your day?”

“Alright, I guess… Same as any other office day.” You shrug, taking a sip of wine. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“Strange question,” He says “But did I leave my tie here before? The red silk one?”

“Yes - I was going to bring it in, but I kept forgetting. It’s folded up on the dresser.”

His expression is unreadable as he raises the glass to his lips and drinks slowly. The fingers of his left hand trace circles on your knee, gliding over the soft material of your dress and inching it up your thigh a little.

“You don’t have anything important to do tomorrow, do you?” He says, watching the fire dance.

“No…” You say “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“Sure…” You say, unconvinced. In response, he winks slyly, taking another sip of wine and setting his glass down on the table. He takes yours and places it beside his, pulling you onto his lap. His lips find yours, and you can taste the wine on his tongue. His hand moves up your skirt, and you inhale sharply. His lips still pressed to yours, he lifts you, carrying you all the way to your bedroom.

He lowers you onto the plush carpet, and you push him against the wall, your palms flat against his muscled chest. His fingers brush across the back of your dress, finding the zip and tugging it down in one smooth motion.

The dress slides down your body, landing silently at your feet. You smile mischievously as he draws back to admire you.

“God….” He whispers “You’re beautiful. Whatever am I going to do with you?”

You look over your shoulder, your gaze falling on the bed. It is perfectly made and inviting, and even before you turn your head back you know that you are both thinking the same thing.

Almost.

Without you noticing, Hotch has taken the tie from the top of the dresser and unwound it, gripping it tightly. He works fast, twisting the soft silk around your wrists and tying it just tight enough to keep your arms pressed together, without being too tight.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He says, cupping your cheek with his hand. You nod.

“Yes.” You reply almost instantly, leaning forwards and taking his bottom lip gently between your teeth. His fingers tangle in your hair, and he pushes away from the wall. Your legs find the edge of the bed, and you fall back, landing with a soft thump in the perfectly folded sheets.

His eyes skim over your body, over your flat stomach and perfect curves. You watch as he begins to unbutton his shirt, throwing it aside. He leans forward.

“Yes…what?” he places a hand beneath your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Yes, _sir._ ” You respond, your voice soft.

“Better. You’re learning.” His hands now work deftly at the buckle of his belt, slipping out of his boxers and trousers in one smooth movement. He climbs onto the bed, and you move back so your head is against the pillows. He kneels with his legs on either side of your knees, his hands gripping the sheets beside your shoulders. He pauses for a moment, then takes your bound wrists and unties the knot.

You frown quizzically.

Suddenly, your hands are yanked above your head, and the tie fastened to the decorative metalwork of the headboard.

“Oh.” You gasp. He runs his finger down your body, from your collarbone to the soft purple lace of your underwear and back up again.

He reaches around you and carefully undoes the clasps of your bra (strapless, of course), lowering his face and planting a kiss on the tip of your breast. His tongue flicks out, and your breath hitches in your throat as it circles your nipple. His kisses trail down between your breasts and towards your navel, and a burning sensation begins to build in your core. It is almost as if he can sense it – his lips start to move slower and more urgently against your skin, and every fibre of your being tingles with excitement.

It is almost too much to bear.

“Aaron, please!” You whimper, writhing beneath him.

“Be **patient**.” He says firmly, his breath warm against your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip as he reaches down and removes your underwear. He gazes down at you, his eyes dark and intense.

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” He repeats, his voice low and thoughtful.

“Anything” You breathe “Whatever you want to. Please.”

“ _Quiet._ ” He says, crawling up the bed so his eyes are level with yours and silencing you with his lips as he eases himself into you.

Your hips buck, and he pins you down with the weight of his body. The tie bites into your wrists a little, and you attempt to flex your fingers. Hotch’s hips move against yours, slow and controlled.

You long to hold him tight, to dig your fingers into his shoulderblades, but your hands are bound tight. He has control over you, and he’s enjoying it.

“Faster…Please.” You beg “Please!”

“What did I tell you, Y/N?” He says sternly, stopping momentarily.

“Please, _sir._ ” You pout “Faster, Please.”

He obliges, and you cry out as he thrusts roughly into you. The pain is exquisite, and you ball your fists, teetering on the edge of release. Hotch buries his face in your shoulder, exhaling shakily against your neck as he spills his seed inside you. Your own climax knocks the breath from your lungs.

He holds you for a few more minutes, then reaches up to untie you, his arms weak and his chest glistening with sweat. Red marks encircle your wrists, and the blood suddenly rushes back into your fingers.

“Thank you.” You whisper, crawling beneath the sheets and resting your head on his chest.

~~~~~~

You wake up with his arms around you, the marks on your wrists gone and the crumpled tie on the pillow next to you. Your arms ache, and you find yourself dreading the thought of the arms practice scheduled for the next day.

“Morning.” Hotch mumbles, his brown eyes opening. His face is innocent and charming, and there is nothing in his expression that even suggests the side of him you saw the previous night.

“Morning.” You reply, brushing your hair away from your face and sitting up. Your dress is still lying in a pile on the floor, and god only knows where your underwear has ended up. The light shining through the gap in the curtains tells you that it’s late morning, and you climb out of the bed, retrieving a dressing gown from the hook on the back of the door.

“Breakfast?” You ask, wrapping yourself up in the soft material.

“Yes, please.” He sits up, rubbing his eyes and letting out a quiet yawn “That would be lovely.”

“Spare clothes are in the closet.” You say, slipping through the door and down the stairs.

He joins you in the kitchen a while later, wearing a t-shirt and dark jeans. You turn around, brandishing a spatula and a plate stacked high with pancakes. He attempts to steal one, earning himself a hard smack on the rear with the spatula.

“Y/N!” He yelps “That _hurt!_ ”

“Aaron, you work for the _FBI_.” You reply, setting the plate down and folding your arms “I highly doubt I hit hard enough to hurt you as much as you’re claiming – although I could probably hit you that hard if I wanted to…”

“I’m a little scared of you, Y/N.” he replies, kissing you lightly on the forehead and sitting down at the table.

“Just the way I like it.” You reply. He swallows a mouthful of pancake, snickering. You look up at him, and he smiles.

 “Yes Ma’am.”

 


	7. Interrogation

You adjust the skirt carefully, making sure it sits perfectly. It is tight, but not too tight, and ends just above the knee, with just enough stretch to allow movement and comfort. Of course, your outfit has attracted attention, but it is something you have come to expect. Your heels click against the floor as you make your way down the corridor to the interrogation room, clasping a file to your chest.

Everyone else has left.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You push open the door, and Hotch stands before you. He nods, and you set the file down on the table.

“Y/N” He says quietly - angrily.

“What?”

“I know what you’ve been doing, and I don’t like it.”

“What are you talking about?” You say, the words threatening to stick in your throat. You can tell from the look in his eyes that he doesn’t believe your denial, and you realise it was foolish to begin with.

“I saw you…I saw you with _him._ ” He growls, blocking the exit and forcing you towards the opposite wall. His shirtsleeves are rolled up just past the elbow, and you can see the muscles of his arms, defined and strong.

“It’s nothing.” You reply “He’s nothing.”

“Am I nothing to you as well?” Hotch turns momentarily, locking the door with such force that you flinch a little. “Is that why you ran to him?”

“No. I was drunk – it was a mistake.” You squeeze your hands into nervous fists “You…you mean everything to me.”

“Then **act like it.** ”

His eyes meet yours, and you look down, fear clawing at your heart.

“Y-yes…” You mutter “I – I will.”

Suddenly he is mere inches from you, and he tilts your face towards his.

“It kills me to see you with him, Y/N.” Hotch’s eyes flicker across your face, full of pain and sadness. What you see is not anger, like you first thought, but _hurt_. You stare up at him, wide eyed.

He leans in, his lips moving insistently against yours, desperate and urgent. You collide with the cold, hard surface of the wall, and his fingers tangle in your hair. His kisses are rough, almost primal – there is no sign of the calm, collected agent you first came to know upon joining the BAU.

Desire did funny things to people.

He moves from your lips to your neck, just below your ear, and a tingle runs through you. You press your body to his, bunching the material of his shirt into your hands. A shaking breath bursts from your lips.

“Aaron…” You whisper. He stops, looking up at you with dark, lustful eyes. The moment seems to last forever, until his hand slips from your hair and he steps back. His expression is unreadable, and he turns away.

“Aaron?” You say again, moving to stand beside him “What are you—“

He grasps at your wrist, yanking you towards him and twisting your body to face his. The table’s edge presses into your thighs as he kisses you again, and you fall back onto it, landing hard on your ass. Your chest rises and falls fast, your heart thumping against your ribs.

He breaks away to catch his breath, loosening his tie and throwing it aside. Your eyes sweep over his body, and your fingers hook into his belt. You pull him towards you, kicking off your heels and working deftly to undo the buckle. He pushes your hands away, pushing down his pants and boxers as you slip out of your tights and underwear.

You had almost forgotten just how _big_ he was.

He runs his hands up your legs, positioning himself between them and hitching up your skirt. He smirks, roughly thrusting into you. Your legs fold around his hips, pulling him deeper, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Tell me what I mean to you.” He whispers in your ear, his voice almost a growl.

“Everything.” You cry, as he thrusts again “You mean everything to me.”

“And what does he mean to you?” His hand snakes up beneath your shirt to squeeze gently at your breast.

“Nothing.”

“Good.” He grinds his hips against yours, and you struggle to contain another cry. Every movement sends a spark of excitement coursing through you.

“I’m sorry.” You say “I was drunk, and I hadn’t seen you for weeks. I needed you. I…I turned to him in a moment of desperation.”

“Is this what you needed?” He says, his voice low.

“Yes.” You breathe “Yes.”

He holds you tightly to him, and you can’t think of anything else. The scent of his cologne fills your nose, the feeling of skin against skin making every fibre of your being burn with desire.

~~~~~~

By the time you are finished both of you are breathing heavily, and the evening light has faded to darkness outside.

“I can’t let you go, Y/N.” He rests his forehead against yours as you catch your breath.

“I know.” You say, planting a tender kiss on his lips and smoothing out the rumpled material of his shirt “And I don’t plan on leaving any time soon.”

 

 


End file.
